


Pickles, Cream Cheese, and Ham

by Lamaria_12



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt, Family Feels, Family Tradition, Homesick Lance (Voltron), Homesickness, Hurt No Comfort, Lance's Family (Mentioned) - Freeform, Maybe I'll add comfort if you guys want it, Traditions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-25 01:10:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13823307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lamaria_12/pseuds/Lamaria_12
Summary: Lance remembers how his family made all kinds of food.But here in space? It just doesn't taste the same...





	Pickles, Cream Cheese, and Ham

**Author's Note:**

> This is suuuuper self-indulgent, but I thought I'd write something

The team had just gotten a stock of fresh ingredients for food, many of it painfully similar to Earth’s. This had excited everyone, spewing out what they wanted most.

“Garlic Knots! Oh! And Pizza! Do you think we can make enchiladas?”

“Coffee! Pasta!”

“Mm Cake? Burritos, and _yes_ to the enchiladas”

“A burger would be nice…”

“I am looking forward to coffee, I’ve always had a soft spot for steak”

This, of course, led to Allura’s and Coran’s excitement to try Earth foods. Which Hunk was glad to make for them.

The day had passed by, and no matter how excited everyone was, Shiro had declared it was time to go bed. They needed to keep their strength up for fighting the Galra Empire.

Which brings us to now.

Lance sat in his bed, staring up at the ceiling. His homesickness hitting harder than ever. God, he missed going to the pizza shack on the beach. His niece, Lisa, was so excited to get her Kiddie’s cheese pizza off the menu, and he would always gasp, trying to persuade her that Pizza with pepperoni was better. She would stick her tongue out, and yell that pepperoni was spicy. He remembered his older sister laughing at their childish spat. He remembered turning around and calling her out on her disgusting excuse for a pizza. (She always had pineapple on her pizza.) He remembered her getting offended, uncrossing her legs and standing up abruptly and running after them down the beach. Maria was terrifying.

He remembered making cookies with his mom and Lisa. She would cut out the shapes, and he would help by carefully putting the shapes onto the cookie sheet.

He remembered that he would help his Aunt make little pickles, covered in cream cheese and wrapped in ham. He sat up, remembering how he would steal a couple of pieces off the platter, and how, to satisfy him, she would give him the ends. He remembered how his dad and uncle would sneak in from time to time to steal some. She would never fail to chew out her brothers for that.

It was then he realized he was in the kitchen, seemingly having walked there.

He also noticed that fat tears were streaming down his face, but he pretended not to.

He got out the ingredients to make the same pickles his Aunt did. For the first 13 years of his life, he hadn’t known what they were officially called. He read online that they were called ‘alligator eyes’, but the name never stuck. 

He dried off the pickles with a paper towel before spreading the cream cheese onto it.

He rolled it up in ham and cut it into equal pieces carefully. His hands were slightly shaking from the crying.

He sat there for a minute, not eating one.

Just staring, thinking about how his family adored the treat.

How they were always the first appetizer to disappear.

How everyone would stack their plates with them, and fight for the last ones.

How he and his nephew Leo would sneak away and hide a stash.

How Leo would eat them all and blame it on the dog.

He gingerly picked up a piece and slowly popped the bite-sized snack into his mouth.

It didn’t taste the same.

It didn’t taste as good.

Maybe it was because it was made from alien ingredients.

Maybe it was because no one was fighting over them.

Maybe it was because there was lively chatter all around him.

Maybe it was because his Aunt didn’t pour every ounce of love she had into them.

It felt like this treat should've been reserved. For family-time only. Only for times when chatter and warmth and happiness are all around him.

Without his family, it's just not the same.

**Author's Note:**

> If you guys want a happy sequel lemme know, I'll be happy to write it. I kind of have an idea to do it, but I'll only really write it if anyone's interested.


End file.
